


Grey Memories

by psychicdreams



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-30
Updated: 2007-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-24 20:25:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1615958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychicdreams/pseuds/psychicdreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Günter is asked about his long hair, and it spirals all back to the very moment he met Gwendal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Yuuri had a lot of time to reflect when he was in Shin Makoku and his fiancé got it in his mind to paint, forcing him to sit still and do nothing. He tried breathing through his mouth, as he’d heard that if he didn’t breathe through his nose it wouldn’t smell as bad, but he found out really quickly that whoever had said that had obviously lied. There was no cutting this atrocious smell!

And his reflections brought him to the fact that he knew little to nothing about Gwendal or Günter. It wasn’t all that hard to figure out why, since if he expressed interest in Günter, he’d never get away and Gwendal was too scary to even consider asking how his childhood went. It was so easy with Konrad or Wolfram, since he could ask with little thought as to what might happen to him once he did.

“Yuuri! Stop looking so spaced out, wimp!”

This time, Yuuri didn’t rise to the bait and only looked at Wolfram pleadingly. “Hey, Wolfram. Can’t we take a break?”

Wolfram’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why?”

“I want to find Konrad. I have a question for him.”

He met Wolfram’s intense and frankly, mistrustful stare with one of his own and the other boy raised his paintbrush threateningly. Yuuri fought the urge to wheedle and plead, as he didn’t think he could stand sitting still much longer and the smell was beginning to make him go faint in the head.

“Fine, it’s basically done anyway,” Wolfram sniffed and finished up with a few strokes.

Almost afraid to see, Yuuri stood and peered over his fiancé’s shoulder. Though he’d never say so, he thought that if Wolfram had intended to follow in Picasso’s footsteps, he’d have a very bright future doing so. And he also wondered, though he was afraid to ask, what had gotten Wolfram into the habit of painting.

“I think Konrad is downstairs in the courtyard, drilling the soldiers.”

Wolfram’s voice was slightly sulky, but Yuuri was used to it by now. Wolfram was a very jealous creature by nature and he had had his fair share of being slammed by an elbow, strangled, dragged by his ear, and thoroughly abused enough to know that first hand.

Indeed, Konrad was exactly where Wolfram had predicted him to be and when he saw the young Maou king heading toward him, he smiled and gave the soldier he was teaching a rest. He could see the question in the soft and welcoming, dark brown eyes and he figured it was because he’d somehow managed to convince Wolfram to let him go. That, or the fact that he wasn’t sporting a livid bruise from a violent fiancé at the current moment.

“Konrad!”

“Heika—I mean, Yuuri. What are you doing here? If you have free time, Günter would suggest that you spend it studying.”

“That’s what I wanted to ask you about, though.”

“About what?”

“Günter.”

Konrad tilted his head and led the two men to the relative quiet of the hallways of Blood Pledge Castle. “What about him?”

“Well, I’ve always wondered. Him and Gwendal are the only ones I’ve seen that have long hair. Well, outside of the women here. Why?”

“Now that I think of it,” Wolfram muttered, “as far as I’ve ever seen, both brother and Günter have always had long hair. Nobody ever questioned it either.”

Konrad looked thoughtful and before Yuuri knew it, he was being led toward the library, where Günter always seemed to be found when he wasn’t wandering the halls in search of an often very missing Shibuya Yuuri. “I think that at one point, there was a bit of a fuss over it, but I can’t remember very well, so let’s ask the man himself.”

Günter looked up as in the silence, the door opening could clearly be heard. He blinked, as if he were surprised to see the three of them approaching him. In fact, he appeared so surprised that all he could do was lower his book a little and stare in perplexity. Yuuri had to admit that perhaps that he had a right to be, considering that the young teenager rarely ever actually sought out the scholar and spent most of his time sneaking away.

“Günter, Heika wishes to know something.”

At Konrad’s amused smile as he spoke, the lavender eyes lit up and Yuuri swore he saw sparkles at one point. As he had expected, Günter jumped to his feet and began a little dance that usually meant he was excited beyond the point of words.

“That’s _wonderful_ , Heika!! I shall tell you anything you want to know! From dragons to dances to the various wedding rituals of other nations—”

“Günter!” Yuuri interrupted, hoping to calm the man, as he feared that one day, the advisor would get so excited, he’d have a heart attack. “I just want to know why you have long hair!”

“…Eh? You want to know about me?”

Instead of having the epiphany that Yuuri expected, Günter blinked and turned a shade of pink that actually made him very pretty. Surprised and intrigued by the reaction, he pressed for more information. “Yeah, you and Gwendal are the only men in the castle that I’ve seen have long hair. Why? Was it a fashion that went out of style? Or don’t you like to cut it?”

“H-Heika, really…you shouldn’t be so concerned about me…it warms me until I can’t speak that you are so curious, but there’s really nothing to tell…!” Günter stuttered a little.

Wolfram leaned close to his ear and muttered, “Get the feeling he doesn’t want to talk about it?”

But like a curious young boy, Yuuri couldn’t leave it alone and he knew very well that Günter was very rarely able to say no to the recently appointed king. “But I want to know, Günter, and Gwendal is too scary to ask.”

“It’s also more than likely that Gwendal won’t answer,” Konrad added, a subtle and almost hidden smile on his lips.

Given the pressing on all sides, Günter gave an uncharacteristic sigh and sat back down, still obviously embarrassed. “Well, it happened around the time that Konrad five or so…”

**~*~**

Günter von Kleist was a smart child and one that many would not hesitate to say was ‘gifted’. He excelled in his academic work and though he had a few rough patches when learning it, soon even fencing fell under his complete control. He’d even been accelerated up a few grades to those of an older age.

However, if there was one thing that Günter wished he could exchange all his ‘gifts’ and smarts for, it was better looks. He was very effeminate, a fact that his classmates around him never let him forget. They would tug on his hair, make rude jokes, and tease him about wearing dresses.

He had no friends.

Because no matter what he said, whenever he spoke he was always laughed at, he became a shy and introverted boy. His mother and father advised him to just ignore it and hold his head high, as he was born from a noble family that the others weren’t, but it did nothing except make the only classmates that weren’t teasing him avoid him. They took his silence as not shyness, but snotty.

Günter got used to it over the years and though it stung, it no longer hurt as it had when he was a child. All he wished for was an escape, so he threw all his efforts into his studying. When it became painfully clear at the beginning of a new school year that he was not straining at all with the effort of his grade level, the teachers would pass him higher and higher until he was at his final senior level in four years instead of the seven it would have taken. He was surrounded by students that were at least five years older than himself, if not more than that.

If he had thought that things would get better, he was sorely mistaken. Most of his classmates found him ‘impertinent’ and a ‘show off’. Günter tried not to let it bother him. He just wanted to graduate from the Academy and find a place he could go and fit in, to _use_ the skills he had acquired.

He would never have noticed him, as Günter was always looking down more often than not to avoid others’ eyes, had it not been for a fencing lesson. He had been paired up with a big, strong boy whose expression was severe and unwelcoming. It was something Günter was used to, so he paid it little heed. He took in the slate gray hair color that was only long enough to tickle the back of his neck, but it was the sapphire eyes that caught Günter. They were dark and deep, much deeper than the jewel they were often called after, and lit with the ice-cold fire of determination.

Though their fight wasn’t overlong or very short, Günter had found that for the first time in years, he had landed flat on his back and his sword flung from his hand. His lavender eyes widened in shock, but the stoic expression on his opponent’s face hadn’t changed.

“Your flank was only lightly guarded. Work on it and you won’t lose next time.”

After that, Günter couldn’t help haunting the other boy’s steps and studying him as intently as he studied his books. It wasn’t that he was just older and knew more. Günter had beaten the other students of the same year with little trouble. No, this man had his own ‘gift’. No matter how hard Günter worked, he could not beat this boy in fencing, though his grades did take the first spot and left the second for his opponent.

He’d also learned his name: Gwendal von Voltaire.

The name suited him, Günter thought and couldn’t help thinking over the fact that Gwendal was all that Günter wished he could be. He was strong and unwavering, powerful and handsome. No one would ever dare tease him about being effeminate and girly, as he was far from looking that way.

After two weeks of observation, Günter had finally worked up the nerve to approach and talk to Gwendal. As like the first and only time they’d spoken or were partnered together, the older boy was not overly friendly, but Günter had expected that. He’d learned through his studying that Gwendal’s stern look was not limited to just him. He treated everyone the same, including the instructor’s.

He’d also learned, with some surprise, that Gwendal was the son of the current Maou, Cecilie von Spitzberg. Despite Gwendal’s gruff nature and very express wishes to be left alone, Günter refused to do so. He wanted to know more about this person, things that he couldn’t learn just by watching from afar.

Perhaps it was just because his presence became commonplace after several months, but Gwendal no longer began to order him to leave him alone. He never seemed surprised anymore when Günter would pop out of nowhere and entreaties his friend to read for a few hours with him.

Under the care of their admittedly peculiar friendship, Günter began to bloom. Something almost like a delayed puberty hit and he grew into his own looks. He no longer appeared so feminine, but nor did he look overly manly. The only word to describe him would have been ‘beautiful’, regardless of gender. The terrible shyness and fear of being teased began to wear off and the true, energetic and emotional person he was began to show, like sunlight shining through the cracks of a boarded up window.

It soon became odd to see either Gwendal or Günter alone. Their combined presence became normal, almost like a set. And where one was, the other was usually not far behind. Oftentimes, Gwendal’s name rang out over the yard during breaks when Günter went looking for his friend. And though Gwendal never answered back, he would always stand and move to sit somewhere else more visible so that the silver-haired companion could always find him.

However, things were not as great as it seemed. Günter did everything he could to hide it and Gwendal seemed to hold no interest in prying. Perhaps he was just ashamed of it, but he couldn’t fight it. The somewhat harmless teasing of his classmates had turned cruel when he had begun to change and grow. Most of it he was still familiar with, but some gestures and some implications left him feeling cold. Sexual harassment, he’d found out it was called from his books, which aside from Gwendal, were his only friends.

But nothing had happened so far and he had just turned to hope that they meant nothing and would do nothing except verbally torment him. His defenses had crumbled in the time he’d been left alone and become Gwendal’s friend, but he didn’t need them anymore. Whenever he felt upset, he would just run to Gwendal and the sheer presence would be enough to calm him. Gwendal never asked why he would sometimes come running to him, stressed and looking as if he’d sprinted until his legs would drop out from under him. He would just let Günter sit and they would read in quiet or just watch the surroundings without speaking.

In his mind, Günter knew that even if his classmates became violent, he could physically defend himself easily. But that same mind that knew that also became paralyzingly fearful after years of conditioning. They never said anything when Gwendal was near to overhear, so Günter stuck even closer to his big friend, even as rumors of a lascivious relationship between them began to circle among the students.

Günter couldn’t say if he looked forward to the holidays or not. Before, he’d always been unable to wait until they were there where he could go home for a few moments of peace. It had been that way for years. But now, with Gwendal as his friend, he began to hesitate. Gwendal would remain at the Academy during the break, with a few other handful of students. When he’d asked why, Gwendal had only shrugged and mumbled an answer that he’d be leaving for good in a few months after graduation, so he could wait.

After a bit of a debate, Günter sent home a letter saying that he would be staying at the school for the week off. Surprised and happy, as he had mentioned he made a friend, his mother sent a gift to him: a nicely made band for his long hair, which had reached his knees by now. Despite the fact that his classmates teased him mercilessly over his long, feminine hair, he loved it all the same. He was…proud of it.

He was on his way to the dorms where he knew Gwendal was reading and he couldn’t wait to show off his gift that was set at the nape of his neck, gathering his long strands loosely and prettily together. Seeing no teachers or students around, he sped up his pace to the dorms, filled with an excited energy.

That energy turned to fear as he rounded a corner and saw five of the bigger boys of his class waiting for him. He clutched the two, hardcover books he carried in his hand and attempted to go around them, but they dodged and blocked his path no matter how many times he tried.

Had he a sword in his hand, he would have been more confident. With a sword, he could have handled it. But the weapons were set aside in the storage sheds for class. Considering the propensity for fighting among the students, the school had forbidden weapons to be carried outside of fencing and fighting classes.

Günter swallowed and figured running was a good idea, but his only escape route became blocked before he could even turn around. Their eyes were unfriendly as they blocked him in and he considered the best way to get away. He excelled in strategy, this should be easy, right, he chanted in his mind.

He lashed out with a kick at the boy toward his left, taking out a kneecap and shoving away another that had reached for him. The way was open now and he burst into a run, having taken out only enough to get himself free.

Pounding on the ground behind him said that he wasn’t going to be let off that easily and he tried to run faster. He would have made it, but one of the boys had a longer reach than expected and a hand latched onto his hair. He cursed the hair band he had once been so happy he’d gotten only hours ago even as he was dragged back, kicking and screaming, into five different pairs of hands. Had he not worn it, they would have had any purchase on his hair and used it against him.

The books landed on the ground, the bindings breaking as careless feet stepped on them and twisted, sending pages everywhere. Günter screamed like a cornered cat as they pushed him down on his stomach, hurriedly clamoring for something one of them had and trying to hold down a violently thrashing young boy.

He feared rape, but even that, he was sure at the time, would have been better than what had happened. They tugged at his hair painfully, as hard as they could, and tears began to stream down his cheeks. Then there was a ripping sound and the pain was gone. The pull was gone, but only because they had taken a knife and slashed it off. What they said, why they laughed, as they let his hair rain down around him to the ground, Günter couldn’t tell.

The wind blew the loose pages of his book away as he sat up and looked at the lavender strands that covered the ground. In disbelief, his hand lifted to touch what he had left. It was uneven and crude, barely touching his ears now. He winced when a cut panged from his touch and he realized that somehow during his thrashing, they had managed to nick his ear with the knife.

Günter didn’t even register how badly he was sobbing as he gathered up what loose hair he could, as if by sheer will, he could put it back. Their cruel behavior had escalated to violence and he hadn’t been able to break free no matter how hard he’d tried. Calmly, almost too calmly, he dried his eyes and grabbed his broken books and broken heart. He stumbled his way to the dorms and knocked lightly on the door that he knew Gwendal was in.

It swung open a minute later and for the first time in their friendship, Günter saw an expression come Gwendal’s face. It was shock, plain and simple. Günter slipped like a tiny eel into the room without being invited and gently set down his books on a nearby table. He used that free hand to dust his rumpled and torn clothing off until Gwendal held his arm still and he realized he was still shaking.

“What happened, Günter?”

“Nothing. I—”

“Your hair getting sliced off can’t possibly happen if you just fell,” Gwendal snarled and forced the smaller boy to look at him. “So don’t lie to me.”

Before he realized it, Günter was sobbing again. The strands of his hair that he had covetously gathered and clutched slid from his fingers to the floor and he buried his face in his hands. Gwendal had always given off an aura of no touching, but this time, Günter couldn’t heed to that and latched himself to the bigger boy.

Surprisingly, arms went around his back and held him tight. The warmth, the strength, in the embrace was welcome. He’d never felt safer, his body engulfed by the aura of the bigger one. Nothing could ever hurt him if he was in these arms.

By the time Gwendal had gotten Günter to calm down and stop sobbing long enough to breathe, the younger boy managed to get out most of what had happened. He didn’t want to look in a mirror as Gwendal did damage control on his hair, trimming it so it was even, because he didn’t want to see what he looked then. He probably looked terrible, ugly…

“You can always grow your hair back, you know.”

“I can’t!” he protested, trying to stifle his wails. “If I do, they’ll just do it again! They’ll say it’s not manly to have long hair, like a sissy, and just cut it again!”

Gwendal snorted and frowned heavily. “Having long hair has nothing to do with manliness or not.”

“Y-You can say that, because you’re so handsome and strong and-and-” Günter hiccupped several times, and took a long drink of the water Gwendal had handed him some time ago.

“Then I’ll grow mine out.”

Günter glanced up and wondered if he should be pathetically hopeful or skeptical. “You will?”

“Yes.” He paused. “And if anyone ever bullies you again, tell me.”

Günter sniffed and crossed his arms, drawing himself into a tiny ball as he curled on the bed. “I can take care of myself.”

“Not five against one and unarmed. Call me and I’ll come.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything and then reached out to grip Gwendal’s hand tightly. He’d believe in his friend. He had to, or he might just not have enough left in him to have faith in anything anymore. “You promise?”

“Yeah.”

“…Okay,” he whispered. His eyes slipped closed in exhaustion and he barely registered, Gwendal lying down behind him and holding him lightly as he slept.

**~*~**

Günter shifted in his chair under the rapt attention of the new, young king, his fiancé and his bodyguard. “After that, I heard that while I slept, Gwendal went and got into such fierce fights with the boys that they were all suspended for two weeks. Guess we should all be grateful he didn’t have a sword.”

“And did brother really grow his hair out after that?”

“Yes. Cheri-sama didn’t seem to disapprove and ever since that day, he’s never had it cut. Either Anissina or myself will occasionally trim it, but he’s kept his word ever since.”

“What happened after that?”

Günter smiled a little at Yuuri’s prompting, even if he preferred not to talk about his past. “We graduated together and Gwendal brought me with him to Blood Pledge Castle, where I’ve been ever since.” He paused and his normal, euphoric smile came back. “Now, Heika, since you’re in such a mood to learn, I have several books with me to teach you—”

He hadn’t even finished speaking before there was a very notable Yuuri-shaped hole in the air where the young Maou had been. Wolfram blinked and then went off on a tear outside the library, screeching for his fiancé. Konrad chuckled and excused himself, muttering something about finishing drilling the recruits.

After a minute of silence, Günter snapped his book shut and stood, heading down the hall to Gwendal’s office. He wanted to see him now.  



	2. Chapter 2

Gwendal woke to the blaring sunlight coming in through the window and he groaned. His head was one massive ache after the welcoming party that had been thrown in his honor when he’d gotten back to Blood Pledge Castle after his graduation ceremony. He was glad that he’d sent a letter ahead of time to warn his mother that he would be bringing someone with him.

He sat up and crawled out of bed, stretching and blinking when strands of his hair hung just a little in front of his eyes in an unfamiliar way. Just like he’d promised Günter, he was growing his hair out. It wasn’t quite long enough yet to put in a tiny ponytail at the back of his head, but it would get there.

By sheer will, he had managed to corner his uncle into telling him what his duties would be once he got settled and had been unsurprised to learn at the moment that it was just paperwork. Sure, there was some strife with the human territories that were on their borders, but nothing that, so far, constituted any display of force.

Dressing in his new, green uniform didn’t take long. It was a bit stiff, but with some more wear, it would work itself out. The boots came on next and he was finally ready, leaving his bedroom and ready to find out where he would have his office.

Breakfast was a simple, buffet style sort of affair. He scanned the faces around him, but noticed none that he recognized at first hand. His mother and uncle were nowhere to be found and oddly enough, he didn’t see Günter. He figured that he would be the first one the younger boy would clutch to. As seen the night before when they’d arrived, Günter was nervous in new places he’d never been to before.

He’d already finished his breakfast and was down the halls again, searching for someone who could tell him where his new office would be, when he heard it. It amazed him, as it had been nearly an hour and a half since he had first woken up.

“ _GWENDAL!_ ”

Günter came tearing around the corner and flung himself at the bigger boy, latching onto his arm tightly. While not something Günter had done before, Gwendal still wasn’t all that surprised. He had realized early on in their friendship that Günter had let him see a side of him that he’d dare not show to anyone else. Or perhaps, been afraid to show anyone else.

“Günter, where have you been?”

“I got lost!” he wailed, looking distinctly upset about it. “I was looking for you ever since I woke up, but every corner I turned looked just like the last one and I got lost!”

“How long have you been up?”

“Three hours.”

Gwendal’s eyes widened a little. Up for three hours and Günter’s Gwendal-tracking had failed him? That was a first. In the Academy, it didn’t matter where Gwendal was, Günter could find him and get to him in less than twenty minutes. Maybe for someone who had never set foot in Blood Pledge Castle could find it big and confusing.

“Come on, let’s find our offices and get to work.”

“Okay.”

Günter let go of his arm quickly, as if Gwendal had yelled at him to. In truth, Gwendal was hoping that being at the castle would allow Günter to spread his wings a little. He’d always acted so trapped in the Academy and halfway fearful no matter where he went. Every time someone spoke to him, Gwendal had noticed an aborted flinch, as if he feared that everyone was out to get him.

“Gwendal! Gwendal, welcome back!”

His lips twitched at Anissina’s bright voice and he didn’t have long to wait, as she came barreling toward the two at speeds that he was sure shouldn’t be allowed to have with two legs. She skidded to a stop and grinned so widely, he knew that he was in for quite a bit of torture that his absence at the castle had denied her.

“I have piles of things that I’m just dying to have you help me test!”

“I’m sure you do,” he answered dryly and turned to Günter, only to find his friend staring fixedly at the ground, as if he did so that everyone would ignore him. Frowning, he reached over and forced Günter’s head up to look at his childhood friend. Günter’s eyes were wide and he gave a little squeak in surprise. “This is Günter von Kleist, a friend from school.”

Anissina glanced between the two, a question in her ruby eyes. “Good to meet you, Günter. My name is Anissina von Khrennikov. I’ve been Gwendal’s best friend and torturer since we were children.”

She held out her hand and though Gwendal was silently tempted to dryly snipe she might eat him, Günter hesitantly reached out to shake her hand. “Good to meet you, Anissina,” he muttered, a tad shyly. Apparently, it was going to take a few years for Günter to get used to the fact that not everybody was going to be terribly cruel to him.

Günter had a great deal of potential in him to be a diplomat, a skill Gwendal lacked, but it would get him nowhere if Günter was terrified of everyone around him with the exception of Gwendal. It was a subject of curiosity to him that Günter had even approached him and stuck so close to him. He had no idea how Günter had even noticed him, since he was always so busy staring at the floor and trying to be invisible.

“By the way, Gwendal, your uncle was looking for you.”

“Probably about our duties. Come on, Günter.”

He was already tugging Günter after her when Anissina called behind him that he wouldn’t be getting away the rest of the day. He winced, knowing that eventually she would be dragging him kicking and screaming into her room of torture for the sake of “science”.

He hoped he’d come back alive.

**~*~**

Günter had collapsed on the sofa in Gwendal’s office just as the sun dipped down below the horizon after the first day. “I’m so tired, Gwendal.”

Gwendal finished signing the last of the papers and set them aside, standing and stretching. Finally, he took the time to study his friend. He had become lankier since the first time they’d met and he honestly looked very good in white, unlike the off gray they’d been forced to wear as uniforms at the Academy. Where he’d found the cloak that he was currently wearing, Gwendal didn’t know, but it seemed too big for him and made him seem smaller than he knew Günter was.

“Considering you were running down the halls for three hours looking for me this morning, I’m not surprised.”

Lavender eyes cracked open and he shifted a little on the sofa to look at the bigger boy. His eyes seemed to scrutinize every inch of him and he commented, “You really are letting it grow, aren’t you?”

Gwendal frowned when it sounded like Günter hadn’t believed he’d do it. “Of course. I told you I would.”

Günter sat up and touched his own hair, a forlorn look on his face. In the past two months since it had been slashed off before graduation, it had managed to grow a few centimeters, but it was nowhere near fast enough for his friend. He had suggested Günter go home first before coming to Blood Pledge Castle, but Günter had refused to go see his parents until his hair had grown back.

“Günter.”

“What?”

“Why did you decide to pick me as your friend?”

His friend looked surprised at the question and answered without thinking, “There was never any other choice. You beat me in fencing and after that, I kept watching you. The more I watched you, the more you became…my role model, I guess. I admired you and respected you. And when I thought that I knew enough about you that I could, I decided to finally talk to you.” He chuckled. “I was watching you for two weeks before I approached you.”

So it had been Günter that had given him the feeling he’d been watched. Not surprising. He should have suspected it, but he hadn’t. His eyebrow rose and closed the curtains for the windows. “Come on, I’ll show you where my room is so you don’t get lost when you want to find me tomorrow morning.”

Günter lit up brightly and bounced up with an energy that belied his complaint only moments before about him being tired. “Wonderful!”

This was how it was for several weeks. The longer that Günter stayed in the Castle, the more confident he grew in his surroundings. Gwendal watched, as Günter no longer stared at the floor as he walked. He smiled to someone other than Gwendal, which gave the boy mixed feelings. He was happy that Günter was becoming more comfortable, but he somewhat missed it, being the only one that Günter talked and smiled to.

His mother adored Günter and Anissina enjoyed dragging the boy for her experiments when she couldn’t get a hold of Gwendal. Günter was blooming even more under the attention he received for his ideas and his prowess. He had ended up even teaching some of the older soldiers in the army a few things.

And he was never far from Gwendal’s side for all that, as if he still desired the bigger boy’s protection.

But Gwendal knew things weren’t going to last much longer. He’d had increasing reports on his desk that stated the contention with the human territories bordering Shin Makoku was rising. In fact, they’d even gone so far as to encroach upon the Mazoku’s territory, claiming it was part of their grazing land.

His mother had tried to have it resolved peacefully, but as of that morning, it had turned into a hostile situation. Gwendal frowned as he buckled on his sword and green jacket. He was being sent to the front, to take over command. There were older men in command that didn’t take well to that, that he would be giving the orders, but both his uncle and mother agreed that he had the brightest mind for strategy, since he was not rooted in old ways.

He glanced down the hall where he knew Günter was sleeping. It wasn’t even sun up yet, but he dared not wait. Günter would never let him leave and he couldn’t bring his friend into battle unless ordered to. He didn’t think Günter would listen to reason. He didn’t think that Günter would realize that if something happened to Gwendal’s force, it would be up to Günter to come in after and take over.

He’d left a note with Anissina to give to Günter and hoped that things wouldn’t end up too badly.

**~*~**

The front was a mess when he reached it by the time afternoon was well underway. He hadn’t thought the human force would be so great. In fact, in the reports he’d had, it had specifically said it was a small force, barely fifty to a hundred people. He frowned as his troops rushed in to bolster the flagging strength of their warriors already there. This was twice the amount that had been reported.

Had they reinforcements suddenly or had they a spy that lied?

He shouted out orders and ended up getting some semblance of control enough to force a stalemate so both sides would draw back to lick their wounds for a bit. Gwendal slid off his horse and handed the reins to a nearby soldier, looking for any of the commanders of the retinues that had been sent.

Out of four, there remained two and he dragged them to convene in one of the biggest tents.

“I was told that this was nothing more than a straggly rebel group and I see that we have a decent sized force against us. So what’s going on?”

One the oldest men, with his arm in a sling and bandages wrapping his forehead, muttered, “That’s what we were told too. When we got here, at first that was what we had. Then, out of nowhere, their allies showed up, and they became triple their numbers. We were overwhelmed almost instantly. We weren’t prepared for any real amount.”

“Do we know if they have any more allies around?” Gwendal snapped, opening the map on the table and studying the surrounding area of possible ambushes.

“Far as our scouts can tell, if they move even a little south, they’ll basically get us in a pincher movement. We won’t have any retreat available.”

“That’s not available anyway,” he replied and tapped a finger against the map. “We are to stay here and deal with this threat. There is no retreat. Those are our orders.”

“Cheri-sama…said that…?”

“No, it was Stoffel von Spitzberg.” There was a suspicious silence and Gwendal looked up to see skeptical looks being exchanged. He frowned. “Listen to me. Regardless of what the order is, Stoffel von Spitzberg is still above us and therefore, our commander. We _will_ obey our orders.” Satisfied that the matter was settled, seeing the chastened expressions, he returned back to the matter at hand. “Now, this is what we will do…”

Three hours later, Gwendal was trying to keep himself from flittering away while he waited for battle to commence. He wished he’d had the opportunity to bring his knitting, but that was hardly an option. The layers of blank parchment sat staring at him and he thought that he could write Günter a letter, but then reasoned that he’d never get the chance to send it.

As if to mock him for his thoughts, there was a shout and he sped out of his tent to engage in one of the longest battles of his life. It was the first time he’d been in real combat and it was entirely different than fencing in school. It was hard and fast paced, demanding and terrifying. He hoped he could finish this before the required five days was up and Günter’s reinforcements would be sent. He didn’t want Günter to get involved in something like this.

Günter in his pristine white clothes.

Günter with his innocent smile.

Günter with his gentle grace and not-so-quiet-anymore voice.

Günter with his sparkling, pretty lavender eyes.

While his mind was consumed by thoughts of his friend, their troops already finished off the first wave of the humans’ attack. He wiped sweat off his brow as he panted in exhaustion, resting for a few moments before combat would resume. He hadn’t been able to use any of his magic otherwise it would have gotten his own men involved, but if they backed off now, he might be able to erect a barrier of earth and turn the ground beneath their feet against their enemies.

Which is exactly what he did.

**~*~**

By the time the fifth day had arrived of their battle, Gwendal could see that his troops were beyond even the beleaguered stages. They needed reinforcements or nobody would be making it back. The messages he got daily from the Castle kept him at least somewhat hopeful, as their enemy hadn’t allied itself with any other human country just yet. If they could finish it before it got to be a full-fledged war, then they wouldn’t have to worry about allies.

It took a bit for Gwendal to get out of bed that morning, as his ribs hurt from a painful cut he’d received two days ago and he would have a few scars by the time it was over. Like usual, the remaining commanders, down to one, came to convene in his tent and Gwendal blinked tired eyes.

“We’ve decimated them as they wiped us out too. If we had more men, this would be a cinch now. Our spies have told us that there are no more hidden allies in any of the surrounding areas.”

“That doesn’t mean they still don’t allies,” Gwendal contradicted as he studied the map he had long since already memorized in the past five days that seemed to stretch into eternity.

“Even if they do, it’ll take more than a day for them to get here. If we can finish this today, it’ll be fully over. That is, if we don’t end up on the evening plate instead.”

“You don’t need to worry about that. There are reinforcements coming.”

“What?!”

Gwendal sighed and rubbed his forehead. “The plan devised by our superiors had me bring my own contingent here to fight. If it couldn’t be settled in five days, reinforcements would be sent to bolster or finish up what we couldn’t. They should be here sometime this afternoon, I would think.”

He had done his damndest to stop the fighting before the five days were done with, but there was only so much he could do with what he had to work with. He didn’t have that many men and what he did have were already exhausted long before he’d even arrived.

“Thank Shinou! We’re saved!”

 _I wouldn’t be thanking anyone just yet,_ Gwendal thought. _We need to **survive** until the afternoon._

It was barely past sun up when the humans launched their first and final attack of the day. Gwendal’s arm felt like lead from a previous injury and he wished that they’d foreseen this enough to bring a healer with them. Apparently the remaining enemies still had a greater amount of men, as what little was left of the mazoku became surrounded.

He could see nothing beyond the person in front of him that he was cutting down. He only peripherally noticed when he wasn’t alone and someone was fighting back to back with him. Whoever it was, knew his every move. When he would thrust or dodge, a sword would protect the vulnerable side he left open for a few seconds. Somehow, it almost seemed like a deadly dance that his subconscious was doing. Before he knew it, he had come to rely on the sword and person to guard his sides and flank.

Time seemed to stretch like an eternity and Gwendal saw more blood than he had in the previous five days combined. His mind couldn’t think past the order of his brain for upward stroke, or back stab with his knife, or a knee to the gut. It was all simple movements, taking it one step by step.

It wasn’t until arms went around his torso from behind and held his arms still that he realized there were no more enemies to fight. His uniform was in tatters and he was exhausted, until he was dripping with sweat. He glanced down at the hands he could see and by the white he could see on the arms, he knew who it was.

Even without that, who _else_ would hug him?

“Günter.”

“You didn’t even say goodbye,” Günter muttered, his voice sounding suspiciously heavy with an impending cry.

Gwendal didn’t have the energy to say anything. In fact, his legs gave out beneath him and he collapsed backwards. Vaguely, just before his mind gave out, he recognized a faint squeak of surprise when Günter caught him and he remembered he hadn’t been getting much sleep lately.

When he woke up next, it was in a soft bed, one that he faintly recognized as his own. It took a moment for his eyes to focus and he realized that the little light in the room was coming from the closed blinds. There was something next to him and he looked down to see Günter napping at his side on the bed, curled up in that same tiny ball he’d been in the day he’d come to his doom room after he’d been attacked.

He slowly sat up, wincing and realizing there were bandages that covered almost his whole chest. He hadn’t noticed he’d been so badly injured. Günter looked exhausted and his cloak that he’d become so fond of was draped over a chair that had been pulled up too close next to the bed. When had he been brought back to Blood Pledge Castle? How long had he been asleep?

Günter shifted and he reached down to touch the short strands of hair. Like he had secretly suspected, Günter was a light sleeper and the faint touch woke him almost instantly. When he saw Gwendal was awake, his lavender eyes became huge and teary. Oh dear…

“Günter.”

“ _I hate you!_ ” Günter spat, sitting up and crying, wrapping his arms tightly around Gwendal’s neck. It appeared as though, seeing the wrinkles, that Günter hadn’t even left his side long enough to change. “You left without even saying goodbye! Do you know what that did to me?! You jerk! I hate you…I hate you…”

His words had petered off into sobs and made Gwendal feel incredibly guilty. Though it hurt to move his arms, he lifted one and wrapped it around Günter’s waist. “I’m sorry. I thought if I told you I was leaving, you’d try to stop me from going.”

“Of course I would!” Günter snapped back and lavender eyes glared up at him. Gwendal couldn’t help but notice the timid attitude his friend had once had at school no longer seemed to be there at all. “I want to go wherever you go, Gwendal! I’ll follow you everywhere!”

“Uh…” A faint blush touched Gwendal’s cheeks, as no one had ever had such conviction when it came to being around the older boy. “I’m happy we’re such close friends, but it was an order. You had to remain behind in case—”

“ _Idiot!_ I don’t think of you as a friend!” Lips touched his and he grunted as he was pushed back onto his back. “I want to follow you because I love you!”

Definitely not timid anymore, Gwendal decided and wondered if it was his influence or if Günter had just been this way from the beginning and had just hidden it. “You do realize that I’m an injured person here, right?”

“That’s the only reason I haven’t done anything to you yet!” Günter snapped, but his eyes were still watery and hurt that he’d been left behind without so much as a goodbye. “I know why you did it, Gwendal, but it still hurts. You didn’t even say goodbye. You didn’t send me anything, not a single letter. Nothing. It was like I didn’t even matter anymore!”

“Günter, I figured you’d be fine. I’m not the only one around you now. Nobody’s picking on you now.”

“It’s not the same! You’ll always be special to me!”

Some part of Gwendal was happy, as he had been a bit put out that it had seemed like other people had taken Günter away from him. He smiled a little, the first that Günter had no doubt ever seen.

“Gwendal?”

“What?”

“ _Well_?”

“Well what?”

Günter blushed and muttered, a bit shyly, “I just confessed to you, you’re supposed to reply.”

“Says who?”

“Says the books.”

Gwendal couldn’t help a chuckle. Like everything else, Günter depended on the books to teach him. It never seemed to occur to the boy that the book could be wrong. “Get off me and I’ll tell you.”

A bit skeptically, Günter perched on the edge of the bed and waited. Gwendal reached up a hand and gently tugged the boy down until their lips were almost touching. He smiled a little more and murmured, “I love you too.”

**~*~**

“Gwendal?”

Gwendal grunted as Günter slid into bed next to him, his faint purple hair looking silver in the moonlight. A hand touched his shoulder and his eyes tiredly pried open to look at his lover with faint curiosity. “What is it?”

“Heika came to find me today and ask about our hair.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, but it made me remember. You really did go through on your promise.”

Gwendal stared at the serene and beautiful smile on Günter’s lips. He was the only one who ever saw this side of the advisor. “Once I give my word, I never back out of it.”

“Do you remember my confession?”

“How can I forget? You almost jumped an fatally wounded boy.” He watched with amusement, as it never failed to bring about a blush to his lover’s cheeks when he thought about it. “But that’s just you, so it doesn’t matter. Now get in bed and let’s sleep. I’ve had a long day.”

Günter just slid quietly down and cuddled against the bigger mass that was Gwendal. “You know,” he said sleepily, “you’re still like a mountain, but much warmer.”

“Go to sleep.”

“…Okay.”

**End**  



End file.
